Alice
Hi! My name is Alice, I’m 26, and I take she/they pronouns. I’m Jewish, Taiwanese American, Transgender, and a big math nerd. I grew up in Montclair and attended Edgemont, Renaissance and MHS. I’m on the board of Montclair’s Pride Choir, where I sing Bass. Professionally, I write scripts for educational YouTube videos. I’m a licensed Amateur Radio operator and a published author. I run role-playing games like Dungeons & Dragons for my friends, and if you find me a video game that challenges my brain in the right way I’ll play it for years (it’s happened several times). I love listening to everything from Green Day to Miles Davis. My go-to fun fact about myself is that I rode every escalator in Wyoming in 2017.
Everyone’s gender story is different. Some people know their true gender from their earliest memories, others only figure it out later in life, and for many people there’s no single answer. Though I’d long had discomfort associated with my assigned gender at birth, it took me until my late teens to recognize my gender dysphoria, and even longer to fully reckon with it. It’s a continuous process, and one that’s ongoing. I don’t know that I’ll ever be “done” transitioning, but each step has made me happier with who I am.
I’ve been lucky to have the love and support of my friends, family, and community; I know not every person, transgender or not, can say that. I want to live with pride and confidence and love, and to be kind even to those who are not always kind to me. I wish to see the multitudes in others just as I wish them to see the multitudes in me. And I want you all to know that I am here in this world, and you are here in this world, and isn’t that a beautiful thing?
Angel
You can call me Angelo, or Angel- I’ll respond to either! Currently, I am 35 years old, living in Central Jersey with my fiancé and our two cats (Gemini, age 8, and Princess, age 17). I am originally from St. Paul, Minnesota. I moved out here in 2020. I’m an Abstract Expressionist artist that is currently dabbling in Post-Modern art, slowly getting back into writing. I’m a recovering addict and alcoholic, I just celebrated 6 years of sobriety on April 28th, I’ll be 19 years clean on October 26th.
I have been out of the closet since the age of 27, but it was only fairly recently (within the last 7 years) that I made the decision to live as my authentic self, and move forward with my transition. I figured I owed it to myself, now that I’m a bit more comfortable.
I think one of the hardest things about this journey so far, was the harsh truth that my outside doesn’t quite match the inside. I know how I mean to articulate myself to the world, but it doesn’t always translate (if you know, you know).
It was that, and some of the religious trauma I had endured, that made it pretty difficult simply because Christianity as a whole promotes a kind of self-loathing that would make even an Anne Rice Character weep; I can’t hear “God Loves You” without feeling that searing pain deep in my soul.
On a more positive note (I apologize for getting so dark here), I’m going to move on to the things that I really like; I like trashy reality television- Feel free to ask me which shows, I like cat videos! The ones where the cats have kind of a slow moment! I like gummy bears, Chocolate candy, Horror movies- Specifically Psychological Thrillers! I like Italian-American cuisine, despite me being ridiculously Mexican. I like Astrology, Tarot, anything Esoteric, because I find beauty in the ‘darkest’ and ‘scariest’ places! Feel free to ask me what my ‘Big 3’ are! I videogames, too! Specifically ‘cozy games’ like Animal Crossing, and Stardew Valley! They’re very relaxing, and who doesn’t like forming bonds with the villagers? Friendship is powerful, you know.
Feel free to converse with me- I swear I’m friendlier than I look! And I suppose I’ll leave this with one of my favorite quotes, “Life is a sexy little dance and I like to take the lead.” – Lisa Vanderpump”
Angelina
Dear Mommy,
It has been a little over 3 years since you left, and everyday I still feel that emptiness of not having you around. I’d thought it would get easier, but how can losing the woman who gave me life and showed me a mother’s love ever get easier? My journey to woman hood was nothing short of your inspiration of beauty, strength, determination, love, and much more. There is so much more I want to say, but I know you are here right beside me every step of the way. I will forever remember those last words you said when the doctor asked you, who was sitting next to you. Your response after gazing at me was “My daughter Angelina Idrovo, I love you baby.” One day we will reunite once again. I LOVE YOU ❤️.
From your daughter,
Angelina 👼
Ayden
At my core, I’m just another human—shaped by growth, experience, and the journey that brought me here. The triumphs, betrayals, and quiet reckonings live within this vessel I call my body. We each carry echoes of our past and the shimmer of who we might become. Sharing that journey is a way to be seen.
Growing up in Colorado, joy looked like soccer fields, bike rides through Cherry Creek, and pressing buttons on a PS2 controller. High school taught me to own my differences, but I often let my labels define me: lesbian, atheist, counterculture, artist. After graduation, what little sense of self I had outside those labels began to fade. I spent years trying to fit into boxes that were loud enough to recognize, ones that seemed “close enough.” Meanwhile, I struggled to feel at home in my own skin.
But some truths can’t be ignored. One truth had echoed through every chapter of my life: I wanted to be masculine. It took time, courage, therapy, and no small amount of money to express that to my closest people, and eventually to the world around me. The process was painful, filled with anxiety, and at times, crushingly isolating. But those moments didn’t outweigh the relief of seeing myself in the mirror, the joy of wearing what felt right, or the peace I found in finally embracing who I had always known myself to be.
Transitioning is, quite literally, a transformation. You strip yourself down to your core, put it out in the world, and claim it—while figuring out everything else along the way. People respond in different ways: some celebrate your authenticity, some accept without understanding, and some become obsessively fascinated—fixated on what they can never fully know. That gaze often feels more like consumption than curiosity, echoing the ways marginalized cultures are mined for novelty. And of course, some respond with fear or hate, unable to sit with what challenges their worldview.
The shift in how the world saw me—from a privileged white woman to someone often perceived as gender ambiguous—was jarring. But it wasn’t just perception that changed; the world itself felt less safe. I became more alert, more aware of my surroundings, and of how I was being watched or spoken to. That loss of ease opened my eyes, and it’s a space where I’m still learning and growing on how to move safely in different environments.
Bella
Hey y’all, I’m Bella!
I’m a proud trans woman, a lover of all things pink, and someone who believes in spreading love, joy, and self-expression wherever I go. This photoshoot was so much more than just a chance to pose in front of a camera — it was a celebration of the beauty and strength within the trans community, and a reflection of everything we go through to be our authentic selves.
I have a degree in filmmaking, which I use to create videos on TikTok that inspire others to live boldly and freely. Whether I’m sharing my journey, a personal story, or just something fun and lighthearted, my goal is always to help people feel seen, heard, and empowered.
Outside of content creation, I’m usually in the kitchen cooking something delicious, acting in haunted houses, or dreaming up new ways to express myself through fashion and art.
This photoshoot taught me so much — about myself, about vulnerability, and about the power of simply being visible. I truly hope all these images spark something in others, whether it’s understanding, curiosity, or just a little more love. We’re here, we’re beautiful, and we deserve to take up space in this world with pride.
To anyone out there struggling to be themselves: I see you. Keep going. You’re not alone — and your story matters and as I always say, “stay safe, stay beautiful, I love you guys so much, bye!”
Chloe
Chloe Elentári realized she was trans in 1990, at the age of 9. Trans visibility was very different at the time, and she came to the unfortunate belief that she could never be a woman. She hid her identity from everyone for the next 33 years, knowing that was the safest option, and thinking that was her forever decision. She created a career for herself in music education as a middle school band director, acquiring a Doctorate in Education and building a highly-respected band program.
It wasn’t until 2023, when she met her now-husband that she felt safe disclosing her gender to anyone. When she transitioned, she was cast out from her career and her home, a situation familiar to many trans people.
She started a new life in the city and began to figure out who she was as a woman. This was when she truly was able to begin to love herself, looking in a mirror and smiling for the first time in her 42 years.
Calla
My birth name is Christopher. I am 32 years alive. Most of my life has been spent in New Jersey. I have wandered around the forests, dug my hands into wet sand, and looked longingly into the eyes of many lovers…all to find a place I can call home.
During the day I provide healthcare for LGBTQ+ folk and our allies. My motivation is love for all living things. I believe we are all one consciousness. Like a stone thrown into a lake our behavior sends energy into the collective. I choose to cast out ripples of love. Always remember me in pursuit of love through communication, honesty, integrity, and consensual pleasure.
I find most exercise tedious. Hiking and yoga are my preferred methods of movement. One of my greatest passions is music. I love listening and dancing along. Attending live shows brings me joy. For the past three years I have been learning to play keyboard. Together with my producer I am halfway through my first album.
Listening to the stories of other queer folk helped me understand the idea of home. When people purchase a house they may choose to renovate it. They change the structure, color, decor, and therefore the energy of the entire place. How does it feel for one to come home to their nearly perfect space?
Some people choose to do that with their bodies. With things like clothing, make up, hormones, and surgical procedures, folks transform their bodies into homes. At times even I lack a concrete understanding of exactly why gender affirming care has drastically improved my life. I invite the days where science can openly examine the benefits of gender affirming care forward. My name is Calla. I use she/they pronouns. Each day I wake up to a body that is mine. This body is home.
Dee
My name is Dee, and I’m deeply honored to be part of this project. I came out later in life and have only recently begun to truly see and embrace my inner beauty. For much of my life, I struggled with self-identity, self-worth, and addiction.
That’s why it’s so meaningful—and healing—for me to now practice compassion and kindness toward myself, to live joyfully, and to celebrate life with others.
When you look at my portrait, and the portraits of other trans folx, I hope you see authenticity, normalcy, and beauty. And more importantly, I hope you see those same qualities reflected in yourself when you look in the mirror.
Know that you are loved and that you have love to give. So spread your joy. Share your love. Be kind and compassionate—to yourself and to others. No one can take that away from you. No one can stop you from being who you are.
This is who we are. We are visible. We are here. We simply are.
Elias
An ode to the many I was and will be,
Waking up with a bare chest, untouched by everything except the hateful words of society and yet my mind was quieter than I had ever felt it before. Formerly born under the wrong pen name, this is a love letter to the girl who made me the boy I am. If you ask me about the women in my life, she is the most powerful. I am so grateful I was taught to listen to women when they speak, I was prepared to hear her cries. I invited her to take up space for nineteen years in every aspect of my life, never denying her the chance to be freed by the right person, place or thing. No solution came. When I let her go, I did so in rage and war. Finding myself upset I couldn’t love her most when I’d only heard rumors you had to love yourself before you could love anyone else. And in hindsight, that may be true. Because now that I have absolved her of distress, I can see it wasn’t her or me. It was the love I found when we worked in unison to tell a story of authenticity. Those two creatures deserved the pure, sweet, thoughtful caress of a warm T-shot and a mirror prepared to reflect trans liberation.
And while this may not be your story, or maybe it is…imagine finding your body riddled with physical anxiety in every next moment as your peers find joy in becoming. Imagine telling yourself something was wrong with no means to pinpoint it. Transness is a mental health issue, but not in the right winged way people talk about. In the way it leads every part of your being into believing you have hundreds of mental illnesses you don’t. And due to that, now you do. Now as I face the world as what could have been the whole time, I am only left to shape my future.
And here I stand. Proud and visible, and more than trans. Ready to liberate myself through the experiences of the years I have left. I belong in my body and my body belongs in the room. I am first and foremost an activist in my presence alone. I am then your local bartender, your producer, your director, your neighbor, your relative. I am an artist, and it started with my body. -Elias Phillips
Felix
My name is Felix Matkovich. I’m 19 and I’m from Westwood NJ. I’m about to be a Junior at John Jay College of Criminal Justice and I work in our Entomology research lab. My entire life has been filled with love and care by everyone around me, including my parents. I never wore dresses (willingly). I never wore makeup (except for the occasional foundation to hide acne, poorly might I add). I never liked my long hair (but it looked so beautiful). I never even liked my name. I realized I was transgender when I was 13. I was going on a walk with a friend, and it popped into my head, I told her, and she said nothing. I told my boyfriend at the time, and he said nothing. I was tired of nobody really hearing what I was saying, so in August after I had turned 14, I told everyone. And in September, I told my parents.
I was in a very fortunate and lucky position: I wasn’t scared to tell them, I knew they would be okay with it, or at the very least, content. Of course, they had questions and concerns, what good parent doesn’t? They explained to me that I wouldn’t be able to get everything I wanted so quickly, and it took them over a year to stop misgendering me or using the wrong name. Four years later, on April 21, 2022, I had my name legally changed. On October 6th, 2023, I started my first dose of Testosterone. I will never forget my mom walking out of the clinic and crying.” I just want to see you happy,” she exclaimed! And you know what? I really am. On December 20th, 2024, I had top surgery and experienced the feeling I have been chasing after for my entire life: the feeling of being myself.
I am so lucky to have been dealt the hand I have, but I also understand and acknowledge everyone else who aren’t as fortunate. Can someone say they’ve fought to be here when it hasn’t felt like they fought at all? Is not fighting, and being able to show that we can exist peacefully, in of itself a method of ceasing a war?
Kris
Kris Coretti (they/them) identifies as trans masc nonbinary. They work remotely as a senior identity management specialist for a medical credentialing company in Philadelphia. Currently residing in Jersey City, they are very much looking forward to moving to Harlem this fall. They love the city for its diverse and vibrant culture, amazing Thai food, and theater scene.
Kris is an avid theater-goer who supports the arts whenever possible, and frequently participates in AfterWork Community Theater in Manhattan. They enjoy fostering cats for local shelters, arts and crafts, and movie nights with friends. Kris can often be found relaxing in Central Park, eating at every restaurant possible in Hell’s Kitchen, and stagedooring after Broadway shows.
Mac
My name is Mac Allen, I use He/Him pronouns, and I identify as a Greek-American transgender man.
I wear several hats in my day-to-day life: I am a community organizer, a small business owner, a multimedia creative, and an activist. But by day, I work as a communications manager at a nonprofit for LGBTQ+ youth here in Jersey. The best part of my job is getting to work to provide resources and services to queer and trans youth. I believe in the work I do and I’m grateful for the chance to have this role in my community.
Being transgender in this country sometimes feels like a challenge. You want to keep your head up high and remain grateful for the opportunity to medically and socially transition, but you also become numb to the reality of being your authentic self: not everyone is able to grow old as themselves. Not everyone gets to be who they are and express themselves freely. Not everyone gets this opportunity.
Amid these emotions, I try to find joy in the little things. When I look down at the scars on my chest after a long day with my loved ones at the beach, I can’t help but feel grateful for my journey. These past five years have taught me the patience of growing into the person you are meant to be.
Growth can be uncomfortable. Growth, like change, is hard for many people to deal with. The best way I can describe transitioning is learning to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You learn to pick and choose what you’re making peace with. If something is too heavy and weighs you down, it’s important to take a break from carrying it. There’s pressure, an expectation to put on a brave face in a world where hate might hide around the corner.
There’s a quote I like to live by- “life isn’t about finding yourself; life is about creating yourself.” I think the world would be a better place if we allowed people to choose who they were and not let them be defined by what others think or want them to be. After all, who knows and loves us better than ourselves?
Maria
I’ve known I was a girl since I was four years old. Not in a vague or metaphorical way—just a deep, persistent knowing that I was not the person the world assumed I was. But life doesn’t always make space for that kind of truth. For a long time, I had to hide.
At sixteen, I tried to explain—to speak aloud what had always been true inside me. I was met with disbelief. I was told what I felt was impossible, that I must be confused. So, I did what so many of us do: I tried to survive. I did my best to act the part expected of me, hoping it might eventually feel real. Spoiler: it never did.
Years passed. I built a life, gathered experience, carried on. But the truth I’d spoken as a teenager, the one I’d known even earlier—never went away. And eventually, I realized something vital: what I said at sixteen was possible. It is true. I am a woman. The body I was born with doesn’t change that, and it never did.
Coming out and transitioning hasn’t been easy. Being transgender in this world often means facing a tide of misunderstanding, misinformation, and—too often—cruelty. But it’s also been the most honest, grounded chapter of my life. Because now, I get to be me. Not a version of myself molded to meet other people’s expectations, not a performance, not a survival strategy, just me.
And being me means I can move through life with a kind of peace and clarity I never had before. It doesn’t mean I’m free from challenges. It just means I finally get to face those challenges as my actual self—and that changes everything.
There’s a common misconception that being trans is all pain and confusion. That we’re broken, or monsters, or somehow less-than. But the truth is simpler, and brighter: we’re people. Trans people experience joy, comfort, love, delight, and laughter. We find community. We fall in love. I’m married to an incredible, supportive woman who loves me for exactly who I am—and has stood by me every step of the way.
This is not a story of tragedy. It’s a story of truth. Of becoming. Of living. And it’s far from over.
Pat
My upbringing was a world of contradictions. My mother was a scientist, while my father was a Navy veteran with jobs as odd as being a Mary Kay salesman; however, my parents still insisted I spend a decade in Catholic school. I still find it funny how the other kids knew before I did about my being queer, to the point I remember being bullied for something as simple as hugging a friend. How dare I have friends!
I remember thinking about my gender quite a bit, feeling like my being born a girl was actually a mistake, but of course I suppressed that like a good Catholic child. At first, I took the predictable approach and tried settling with the idea that I could be whatever woman God made me to be – God made masculine women just as well as He made feminine ones. I still believe there is no one way to be a woman; it’s just that now the definition of woman has evolved for me to become “whoever says she is”.
Part of the challenge of getting here was being naturally effeminate in social expression. At the same time, I was being called a dyke by my high school peers, I was watching Drag Race after school and letting my mannerisms get more flamboyant in theater classes. To be fair, I was a stocky tenor even at that age – I could pass for a queen. I was always a bit of a try-hard when I really wanted to get something right, and I will regrettably be that theater person to say I did such a good job at playing woman I even convinced myself for a time.
One day in college, however, I heard something life changing: most cisgender people don’t question their gender more than once. Other women I knew hadn’t been doing media analysis of male characters in the ways I did growing up, i.e. “Do I like him, or do I want to be him?” I tried to see how long I could hold off on pursuing medical transition. At the time, I fell prey to fear mongering, and for a while I thought of myself as bigender or androgynous (which, while still valid, weren’t fully accurate to my experience).
The leap came at age 24, in outpatient therapy, when I learned not only had I been passively ideating every day for over 20 years but that it directly had to do with being closeted. When I started mentally addressing myself as a man and using he/him pronouns, the ideating faded out.
My social and medical transition has been going on four years now, and living in my truth has outweighed the slings and arrows of being out. My shoulders and hips have done a 180 in one jutting out beyond the other. My “new” cleavage is coming in with a bunch of hair. When I speak, I apparently pass for a gay man – I just think “Thank God no one thinks I’m straight!”
Patrick
I. Buenaventura (a.k.a Patrick) is a poet based in New Jersey. They hold an MFA in Design & Technology from Parsons School of Design. Patrick has practiced and taught both self-defense and martial arts for more than three decades. They self-published a book on self-defense for women called “Your Body is Your Weapon: The Little Self-Defense Handbook,” which they illustrated and wrote in free verse poetry. In October 2023, the book was awarded an Honorable Mention in the Inspirational / Self-Help Category of the 31st Annual Writer’s Digest Self-Published Book Awards.
Their poetry has also been published in Slant’d Magazine and By the WAYE, Issue 01, and Patrick has been a featured reader at various events in New Jersey and New York.
An activist for LGBTQ+ rights, they fought for marriage equality in New Jersey in 2013. In 2022, Patrick began transitioning full-time and identifies as transmasculine and non-binary. They have been documenting their transition in a series of poems, and much of this work serves as a form of activism in support of the trans community.
Raisa
“Dr. Raisa Frayhayt (She/Her) is an actress, singer, historian, comedienne, and aspiring model. She is a proud lesbian Jewish trans woman and AuDHD girly. She is 33 years old and has been a performer since the fourth grade when she decided to sing in the school chorus. Ever since, Raisa has been the center of attention, performing on both stage and screen as well as recently starting to Twitch livestream. She has spent years as well in academia, racking up advanced degrees as a historian and focusing upon the history of the Anarchist movement.
She herself is a proud Anarchist revolutionary and labor organizer with the Industrial Workers of the World, the NYC Anarchist Bookfair Organizing Collective, and the International Jewish Labor Bund. She quite enjoys vintage fashion, specifically 1940s-1960s, and is proud of her collection of over 40 wigs which she wears every day. Raisa is an aspiring pin up model, having recently started modeling for photoshoots. She is also a GIGANTIC nerd, having loved books and sci fi/fantasy books, movies, and tv in particular since childhood.
Dr. Frayhayt has been a fan of video games since the age of five when her grandparents got her a Nintendo 64. Raisa is a rabid baseball fan, being a 4th generation Yankees fan. Raisa wishes one day to see the fall of white supremacist capitalist patriarchy, the end of the wage system, and the revival in popularity of the beehive hairdo.”
River
I came out as nonbinary two years ago, and it has been the most liberating and affirming realization of my life. Since then, I’ve grown tremendously—not just in how I see myself, but in how I carry myself through the world. Exploring my gender has been a journey of peeling back layers, uncovering truth, and learning to show up fully as me.
That journey hasn’t been easy. We’re living in a time when the government and powerful institutions are actively trying to legislate people like me out of existence. The climate is hostile, especially for trans and nonbinary folks—but in spite of that, or maybe because of it, I know exactly how necessary it is to live my truth, unapologetically.
This year, I began medically transitioning. I got top surgery, and I’m preparing to begin hormone therapy. These aren’t just steps on a medical checklist, they are life-affirming milestones. They are proof that no matter how loud the hate gets, I will not be silenced. My body, my identity, and my future belong to me.
I’m proud to be nonbinary. I’m proud to be trans. And I’m proud to be part of a community that uplifts and celebrates queerness in all its forms. From singing with the Montclair Pride Choir, to performing with my Rocky Horror shadowcast group, Cosmic Light Cabaret, to showing up and sharing space with others in the trans/nonbinary support group at Edge—these communities have been my backbone. They’ve offered joy, visibility, creativity, and safety when the world hasn’t.
Living authentically is an act of resistance. It’s also an act of joy. I didn’t just survive—I am thriving, thanks to the love and power I’ve found in queer spaces, in myself, and in the unwavering support of my partner, who reminds me every day that I am worthy, seen, and loved exactly as I am. And I will keep showing up, loudly and visibly, not just for me, but for every person who hasn’t yet felt safe to do the same.”
Spencer
Writing about myself stresses me out. When that classic question comes around where I’m asked what superpower I want, I’d immediately choose invisibility. It’s both so I can avoid the limelight and because being invisible sounds really fun. Imagine all the roofs you could climb. It’s also very recent that I’ve let myself be more vulnerable in my art, so I think these things go hand in hand.
I was nervous when I first heard about getting my portrait taken, but with each day I realized that it’s ok to be seen and important to be heard. For god’s sake, I’m tired of assumptions that trans people are miserable, damaged, dangerous, whatever the hell weirdos have been yapping about. I may be fear driven but I sure as hell am happy despite the odds.
By the time this photo project is up for display, it will be 8 years since I learned that I’m trans. And after those 8 years, I’m feeling more content with each day. A close friend of mine recently reminded me that being alive is an act of rebellion. I don’t want simply living as a trans person to be seen as rebellious someday because we’re really just people. I prefer the concept of queer liberation over assimilation, but it seems that some people can’t handle how cool we are. I hope that someday it’ll be safer for us because we sure as hell aren’t going anywhere.
After a relatively gender indifferent childhood outside of essentially flunking out of womanhood (it’s like trying on shoes, the shoe just didn’t fit and that’s alright)! It took me a long time of unpacking dysphoria, my experiences, my insecurities of whether I was “fake” (when I came out that was a pretty loud narrative and insecurity for trans people) to get to this point. I had an unhealthy concept of manhood, and I wasn’t able to feel content until I let myself be. All I can say is: it’s been a long time fighting my way up. And with my loving husband, our cat, and dear friends, I’m looking forward to my thirties and beyond.
Tiffany
Hi I am Tiffany AKA Tiff and I go by she/her/hers.
I am a proud Black trans woman who loves to be her unapologetic, authentic self. My experience as a Black trans woman started when I was a young kid in the 90s watching Sailor Moon and that it made a huge impact in my life. I was impressed with the love story the characters like Sailor moon and the transformation, and it made me realized that I can be a beautiful woman like Sailor moon. Also, it helped me a lot with my journey. It literally saved my life! I got into anime, Japan, and cosplaying because of it.
I started my journey in summer of 2016 after my grandmother passed away in March 2016. Her last words to me before she passed was “Just be yourself” and those are the words I live by today and it plays an important part of my existence as a Black trans woman who is unapologetic. Since then, it was a rough 2-3 years into my transition because I was dealing with a lot of issues. However, it started to get easier in June 2019, when I went to World Pride NYC. I remember thinking, “I am going live my authentic truth, I won’t allow anyone to define me and my existence, and I won’t apologize for who I am”. Today I live a happy life and I’m at peace and no one can’t take that away from me and my trans joy.
There are several things that bring me joy as a Black trans woman. Cosplaying; especially when I am cosplaying as my favorite character from Sailor Moon, Sailor Saturn. I enjoy reading and writing poetry as a way to be more creative. I am developing additional interests like Japanese culture, women’s soccer (my favorite women’s soccer team is GothamFC), and Tech.
My advice to my trans siblings is to just be yourself, tell your own story and don’t let anyone define who you are.
Valentina
Valentina E. Mendoza, Esq. (“Vale”) is a trans Chicana attorney, activist, and founder/Attorney-in-Chief of MeVale, P.C.—a law firm as sharp, unfiltered, and uncompromisingly progressive as she is. Her work lives at the intersection of law, culture, and community, pushing meaningful social change forward with clarity and purpose. Vale’s not here to climb any ladders—she’s here to build an elevator and leave that door wide open behind her. This portrait captures a trans woman who doesn’t just show up—she sparkles.
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